Fic: AOS :: prices you paid
Aug. 10th, 2010 07:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mermaidtalesTitle: Prices You Paid
Words: 860
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Pike, SpockPrime, Number One, past Pike/Number One
Summary: Their universes are not the same. But the pain is.
Notes/Warnings: Angst. Past character death. Post-Narada
Originally Posted: Here
Spock surveys the man in front of him and knows he should not ask this question. In the months after the Narada Spock had formed a tentative bond with this version of his former Captain. Though that service did not exist in this reality Pike nonetheless seemed to welcome the tenuous friendship.
In the months after the incident they had met several times, first strictly on business, but as the months started passing their meetings continued despite the lack of excuses. Both men grasping for their footing in the wake of everything and recognizing that search in the other.
Asking this question might ruin what had been established. Might break the comfortable routine of their discussions. There was no real absolution to be gained from this Pike because this man before him was not quite the same one he left on Talos IV so many years ago. The man whom he thought he was doing a kindness for.
But those many years ago one woman made him second guess that judgment. Logically any solace to be found from this Pike would be barely applicable.
But he had learned well enough over time that abandoning logic could be wise in it's own way. This perhaps was not one of those times but he chose to follow it anyway.
"Are you familiar with Talos IV?"
Pike goes very still for a moment. "Even if I was you know I can't say," he responds, taking a drink and rising from his chair slowly. His hand falters as he grips his cane and leans heavily on it. Pike looks out the window and Spock can see the answer. Yes, this Pike was there too. And it scarred him no less.
"I do indeed."
"Some things should stay in the past Ambassador," Pike says it firmly, harshly, it's a warning.
No, Spock realizes, this incident was worse than in his own time.
"Why does this incident bother you so?"
Pike's eyes flicked to Spock and then away just as quickly. "Maybe your version was nicer than mine," he equivocates. His hand is white from his too tight hold on the cane.
"The Christopher Pike I knew found the experience rather troubling. The possibility of everything after that incident being an illusion was..."
Pike gave a hollow laugh. "They wouldn't do this. No...I know I escaped. I just don't like the price."
Spock thought over the words. Placing the names and faces from his world to their counterparts he had encountered or heard of here.
And then the missing piece was suddenly very, very clear.
"Number One."
Pike sighed like he was breaking and looked down a moment before turning to stare Spock in the eye. "Number One," he confirmed.
"I am sorry."
"So am I," his voice is hollow as he limps back to sit.
The two men sit in silence. Again Spock considers a question he should not ask.
Pike tries not to think of the incident and fails. The moment he realized she didn't transport. That the reason he's still alive is because she isn't. It still brings a bitter taste to his mouth, still burns to remember. Knowing that she's out there somewhere in a different universe clenches his gut. Jealously over not having her, anger, regret for not finding a way to save her. 5 years hadn't healed the wound. Coming home to earth, taking the time off, putting so much into the academy, into young cadets so bright with life, watching Kirk rise and succeed...it didn't take the sting away. Didn't make him wish she wasn't still with him. He'd trade it all to have her back. Put him back in the chair forever, whatever price it took if it would mean she was still alive. That he hadn't failed her.
"Was..." He stops himself. But he can't hold it in, he needs to know, even if it won't help. "Tell me she was happy," it's not a plea but it's not far from it either. He can't ask for more, won't dare ask about himself, it doesn't matter who she's with there. Just that she's ok somewhere.
Spock thought of the last time he spoke to Number One, years ago, so many years. She had been furious when she figured out Pike was on Talos because of course, in time, she had figured it out. The stories didn't line up when you knew all the things she did. So Number One had cornered him and she'd let go and told Spock exactly what she thought of the decision. That Talos had always been a ghost haunting Chris, that leaving him there was crueler than killing him outright. She let go and screamed until she had collapsed on his shoulder and cried. Only then had he realized the extent of her relationship with their former captain. His old friend and mentor had ceased to be a friend after that. In the later years when they met it was always courteous but brusque. She had nothing left to say to him and he couldn't repair the fracture. She'd died in her time, on earth, with friends but...not with family. Some things couldn't be replaced.
"She was," he lies.
Spock resolves not to bring up the issue again. He would bring this man no more pain.
After Spock leaves Chris holds his head in his hands and lets himself cry. He tells himself that they're happy tears, that he's thankful she had a full life somewhere, but he knows that's a lie. All he can feel is the loss.
Words: 860
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Pike, SpockPrime, Number One, past Pike/Number One
Summary: Their universes are not the same. But the pain is.
Notes/Warnings: Angst. Past character death. Post-Narada
Originally Posted: Here
Spock surveys the man in front of him and knows he should not ask this question. In the months after the Narada Spock had formed a tentative bond with this version of his former Captain. Though that service did not exist in this reality Pike nonetheless seemed to welcome the tenuous friendship.
In the months after the incident they had met several times, first strictly on business, but as the months started passing their meetings continued despite the lack of excuses. Both men grasping for their footing in the wake of everything and recognizing that search in the other.
Asking this question might ruin what had been established. Might break the comfortable routine of their discussions. There was no real absolution to be gained from this Pike because this man before him was not quite the same one he left on Talos IV so many years ago. The man whom he thought he was doing a kindness for.
But those many years ago one woman made him second guess that judgment. Logically any solace to be found from this Pike would be barely applicable.
But he had learned well enough over time that abandoning logic could be wise in it's own way. This perhaps was not one of those times but he chose to follow it anyway.
"Are you familiar with Talos IV?"
Pike goes very still for a moment. "Even if I was you know I can't say," he responds, taking a drink and rising from his chair slowly. His hand falters as he grips his cane and leans heavily on it. Pike looks out the window and Spock can see the answer. Yes, this Pike was there too. And it scarred him no less.
"I do indeed."
"Some things should stay in the past Ambassador," Pike says it firmly, harshly, it's a warning.
No, Spock realizes, this incident was worse than in his own time.
"Why does this incident bother you so?"
Pike's eyes flicked to Spock and then away just as quickly. "Maybe your version was nicer than mine," he equivocates. His hand is white from his too tight hold on the cane.
"The Christopher Pike I knew found the experience rather troubling. The possibility of everything after that incident being an illusion was..."
Pike gave a hollow laugh. "They wouldn't do this. No...I know I escaped. I just don't like the price."
Spock thought over the words. Placing the names and faces from his world to their counterparts he had encountered or heard of here.
And then the missing piece was suddenly very, very clear.
"Number One."
Pike sighed like he was breaking and looked down a moment before turning to stare Spock in the eye. "Number One," he confirmed.
"I am sorry."
"So am I," his voice is hollow as he limps back to sit.
The two men sit in silence. Again Spock considers a question he should not ask.
Pike tries not to think of the incident and fails. The moment he realized she didn't transport. That the reason he's still alive is because she isn't. It still brings a bitter taste to his mouth, still burns to remember. Knowing that she's out there somewhere in a different universe clenches his gut. Jealously over not having her, anger, regret for not finding a way to save her. 5 years hadn't healed the wound. Coming home to earth, taking the time off, putting so much into the academy, into young cadets so bright with life, watching Kirk rise and succeed...it didn't take the sting away. Didn't make him wish she wasn't still with him. He'd trade it all to have her back. Put him back in the chair forever, whatever price it took if it would mean she was still alive. That he hadn't failed her.
"Was..." He stops himself. But he can't hold it in, he needs to know, even if it won't help. "Tell me she was happy," it's not a plea but it's not far from it either. He can't ask for more, won't dare ask about himself, it doesn't matter who she's with there. Just that she's ok somewhere.
Spock thought of the last time he spoke to Number One, years ago, so many years. She had been furious when she figured out Pike was on Talos because of course, in time, she had figured it out. The stories didn't line up when you knew all the things she did. So Number One had cornered him and she'd let go and told Spock exactly what she thought of the decision. That Talos had always been a ghost haunting Chris, that leaving him there was crueler than killing him outright. She let go and screamed until she had collapsed on his shoulder and cried. Only then had he realized the extent of her relationship with their former captain. His old friend and mentor had ceased to be a friend after that. In the later years when they met it was always courteous but brusque. She had nothing left to say to him and he couldn't repair the fracture. She'd died in her time, on earth, with friends but...not with family. Some things couldn't be replaced.
"She was," he lies.
Spock resolves not to bring up the issue again. He would bring this man no more pain.
After Spock leaves Chris holds his head in his hands and lets himself cry. He tells himself that they're happy tears, that he's thankful she had a full life somewhere, but he knows that's a lie. All he can feel is the loss.
